Cats and Dogs
by KisekiMa
Summary: In a fairy tale world live two dominant races of humanoids – cat people and dog people. No one remembers since when their kingdoms are in deep conflict. It can change, because one day a young lioness finds a wounded wolf near the dragon's cave… and something even more surprising among the dragon treasures. (In short: Atalanta & Siegfried try to raise a baby dragon, AU).
1. Questions First, Courtesy Later

**Cats and Dogs**

This is not a new story, just something from my long forgotten archives, a simple fairy tale I found funny enough to publish. I may continue if You want me to.

* * *

 **1: Questions First, Courtesy Later**

It was the most terrifying roar the huntress has ever heard – like the last cry of a dying beast, as strong as a thunder itself. The whole mountain shook, brightened by a strange blue light.

"A magical explosion?" Atalanta lowered her ears, sniffing the characteristic smell of smoke and death in the air. Her tail waved nervously, when she realized, what it meant. "No way!"

She hurried through the forest, jumping from tree to tree. It was her duty as a guardian of these lands - to observe the old dragon and warn or evacuate the cats from the nearest town every time the vile reptile decides to leave its lair. Fafnir was an infamous beast, which regularly spread terror and death. Many brave cat warriors tried to stop the creature, but ended up devoured or at least shred to pieces and abandoned in the woods to become a snack for overjoyed crows.

 _Who was stupid enough to enrage Fafnir so much this time? Are the local cats doomed?_

She weren't thinking, what she's going to do after arriving to the cave. Even if she has no chance to win against the dragon, she'll do what she can to keep the beast away from the town.

No one knew these woods better than the chaste huntress, so she moved forward relatively quickly, more and more concerned with every jump. First that terrifying roar, now the ominous silence. No bird or forest creature dared to sing or move, Atalanta couldn't even hear any more sounds of the battle nearby. With her bow in hand, she landed on the open space in front of the cave, ready to fight…

"What in the…?!"

The great dragon Fafnir was laying dead, with a strange, blue sword in its chest.

Still suspicious and with an arrow ready to be released, the lioness carefully stepped forward in search for an owner of this mysterious weapon. She winced, feeling the still hot blood of the defeated beast splashing under her feet.

 _Is it even possible to survive something like this?_

Finally, under the old oak near the entrance to the cave, she found the corpse of an idiot who dared to challenge the vile reptile.

"A tundra wolf?"

It was a guess, because Atalanta had never met such wolf before; they were rare and lived too far north to be spotted on cats' lands. Rumors has it that the famous king of dog people, Sigurd, is also a tundra wolf – the merciless leader of their aggressive tribe.

The huntress stared at the man, sighing hopelessly. He was big indeed, bigger than any cat, except lions from the royal family and members of one famous clan of tiger aristocracy. To be honest, any warrior she's met so far couldn't match this stranger in terms of size. He had an impressive hair, now red with blood, and short, rounded ears, characteristic for the creatures inhabiting cold regions.

And his tail was just gorgeous! Although only its tip remained silver, the fur seemed soft and very… petable.

Atalanta felt ashamed of her own thoughts, especially of this faint desire to caress the fluffy tail of the stranger. A wolf or not, he was already dead, just a ball of bloodstained fur. Nothing more could be done for the guy, even her silent 'Thank you' won't reach him in the land of the dead...

The lioness was ready to leave and plunder Fafnir's cave, when the 'corpse' moved suddenly, almost scaring her to death. Atalanta jumped back and readied her bow again, hissing angrily, like a scared kitten.

The man groaned painfully and spat some blood. He even tried to lift himself up on his shaking arms, but was too weak to do so. In the end, he fainted and landed on his face in the pool of dragon's blood again.

Atalanta sighed – this unexpected return to the world of living was not very fortunate for her. A dead wolf, savior or not, would mean no troubles. In this case, however… leaving the guy to die was not only wrong, but also would tarnish her reputation. No forest guardian (or 'ranger', like her annoying older brother used to call her) would abandon a wounded man in the forest.

"Yup, he's still breathing," she growled after another routine check. "How am I suppose to transport you to my hideout, huh? I can't leave you here but I'm not strong enough to carry you… damn it. Or maybe…"

Struck suddenly by a brilliant idea, Atalanta waved her tail once more and prepared to set her plan into motion.

* * *

Even if Siegfried expected to survive the fight, he was not ready for this kind of view right after opening his eyes.

His whole world shrank to a tip of an arrow, ready to hit him right between the eyes. His vision was still blurred, so he blinked several times and tried to focus on his surroundings. After a while he spotted a nice bow and finally its owner: long hair, pointy ears and beautiful green eyes.

 _Cat eyes. So now I'll be kept hostage by a lioness? Great, just great. Sigurd will kill me if he finds out. If another war breaks out because of me, I…_

It was his last thought before he gave up to fever and fell into a restless slumber again.

* * *

For some time (a week, maybe longer? Atalanta wasn't really sure) the wounded wolf mostly remained unconscious, tormented by a strange, unnatural fever. Even if he woke up sometimes, interaction was not possible. The lioness suspected that Fafnir's magic was to blame – maybe it helped the warrior survive after such impossible battle, but clearly wasn't good for his body later.

"I'm not a nurse, you know," she kept murmuring to herself every time her patient needed water or cure. "If I wanted to be one, I would rather stay in the palace. And that long hair of yours was quite annoying to wash. I'm glad I carried you to this cave, I wouldn't tolerate your blood on my carpet. Hmmm, but I must admit you're pretty handsome… for a mere canine."

In her daily routine she managed to find some time to regularly visit Fafnir's lair and bring some valuable items to their temporary hideout. She wasn't actually interested in riches, but knew that gold can corrupt people, cats and dogs alike, so she tried to hide as much of it as she could. If the news of Fafnir being killed spreads, many adventurers will head to these woods. Priceless items stolen by the dragon may be lost this way, and new, meaningless conflicts will break out eventually. Even another war may start because of that.

Atalanta was about to leave to the woods again when the wolf woke up and stared at her from his improvised bed. She easily noticed that the fever must be gone at last – his blue gaze, which pierced her like an icy missile, seemed sane this time.

Her instincts told her to reach for a bow, but the lioness suppressed them somehow. She tilted her head, trying to read the wolf's intentions, only her tail, waving like a pendulum of an old clock, showed how nervous she is.

The stranger clearly tried to say something, but his throat was painfully dry. He reached for a glass of water with his shaking hand.

Atalanta sighed, came up to the wolf and helped him with the drink. As weak as he was now, he could do her no harm, even if he wanted to.

"Thank you," said the warrior at last and the huntress had to admit that his voice sounded surprisingly gentle. "And sorry. For the trouble I caused."

"Questions first, courtesy later," she ordered harshly, almost like a prison guard, to show the wolf who's in charge here.

"What do you want to know?"

"First: your name."

"Siegfried." Atalanta winced involuntarily, hearing this hard, northern dialect. She didn't like the sound of it, which reminded her of a growling of a wild beast. "And yours?"

"Atalanta."

The stranger only nodded; his face remained expressionless. The lioness wasn't sure what to think about it, her tail was moving in circles now.

"How did you manage to kill Fafnir?"

The wolf narrowed his eyes, trying to remember the details, but only hopelessly shook his head.

"I'm not sure..."

"I see, it was too awesome for your tiny doggo brain." Atalanta smiled mockingly. "Not knowing what to say, you could go with: 'using a sword' or something…"

"Right, the sword!" Siegfried immediately jumped out of the bed and almost fainted again.

"Easy," the lioness said apathetically, like instructing a not very intelligent puppy. "Your wounds will open if you don't stop moving, you know? And then you'll die."

"That should be convenient for you?" His ears drooped sadly when he saw her expression. "Sorry, that was inappropriate. I should rather keep thanking you for saving me, although I have no idea why you, a cat to the core, even bothered."

An ominous fire appeared in Atalanta's eyes when she answered coldly:

"Unlike your people, we're civilized."

For the first time since the beginning of their little talk Siegfried's eyes narrowed dangerously. He clearly wanted to say something, but abandoned the idea, probably still too weak to argue.

"And you?" The lioness quickly got tired of an awkward silence between them. It could be her only occasion to talk with a real tundra wolf, so she wanted to investigate him as much as possible. "Why you even bothered to challenge Fafnir?"

"I was told that the local dragon kills innocent people." He shrugged like it was obvious from the very beginning.

"Cat people."

"So what?" Siegfried was surprisingly passionate about it. "I do not divide creatures into those who deserve help, and those who can be abandoned. All life matters to me and I can't accept unnecessary cruelty. And you, Miss Atalanta? Would you kill a puppy just because it's a worthless canine?"

She wouldn't. For someone who lived as close to nature as Atalanta, every life mattered. She could be merciless to her enemies, but killing innocent creatures, especially children, was unforgivable for her. Still, hearing something like that from a supposedly cruel and aggressive tundra wolf was… surprising.

Siegfried must have interpreted her silence in his own way, because he sighed heavily and tried to stand up once more.

"We wasted too much time already, I must go and take the sword back."

"First: you won't manage to take a single step out from here in your current state. Second: what's so special about this blade that you can't stop babbling about it since you woke up?"

This sudden question made the wolf warrior freeze in the middle of a movement.

"I… borrowed it," he answered at last.

Atalanta's eyes widened, her tail nervously swept the air, back and forward.

"You mean 'stole' it, right? Damn, I saved a rotten thief!"

"I borrowed it," Siegfried repeated, his expression deadly serious. The lioness was strangely sure he's not lying, which made her even more curious.

"From whom?"

"It's a…" The wolf hesitated again. "A family treasure. I must return it, no matter what."

He tried to stand up again, but Atalanta stopped him with the tip of her bow.

"Calm down. It's already here." She showed him the sword, wrapped in cloth, laying safely near the fire, among many other things brought here by Atalanta from the dragon's cave. "A blade of kings, indeed, I suppose it even has a name."

"Gram," the wolf confirmed mechanically.

The lioness rolled her eyes.

"I knew it. You must be from a royal family then..."

His face could be emotionless, but his ears, pressed tight to the head, betrayed the guy.

"I'm… just a traveler."

"Yeah, right."

"Sorry to disappoint you, but this is who I am." He shook his head, then smiled faintly to himself. "You on the other hand…"

"What?" Atalanta blushed, only a little, but it was enough to tell that she's avoiding the truth. "I'm just a huntress."

"Yeah, right. Every lion is an aristocrat, even a baby coyote knows that much."

"Seems like we both are just shameless liars."

"Bad liars."

"Indeed."

Again an awkward silence fell on their heads like a dark veil, but none of them felt the need to break it this time. After a while Atalanta stood up swiftly, preparing to leave.

"Where are you going?" Siegfried looked at her like a kicked puppy, clearly not liking the idea of being left alone and defenseless in the cave in the middle of nowhere.

"Home. I have duties, you know?" She left some water and bread close enough for the wolf to reach them without leaving his bed. "Now I can go back to my usual work without worrying that you'll die in your sleep or something…"

"I'm very sorry for causing you so much troubles, Miss Atalanta," Siegfried said, lowering his head, but the lioness only rolled her eyes, like caring for him all this time was natural. "May I… take a look at the treasures when you'll be gone?"

She glanced at the pile of goods from the Fafnir's cave, then shrugged.

"Sure, you don't need to ask, you're not a prisoner. What would you like to take with you? I guess at least half of the treasure should be yours for slaying the beast."

"I don't care for riches," the wolf interrupted, smiling faintly. "But there may be something interesting among them, like an old book or an ancient diary."

Atalanta shrugged again, but a mysterious sparkle in her eyes told Siegfried that she was pleased by his answer.

"Do what you want. But I warn you – I won't be carrying you back to bed if you faint again. Don't exhaust yourself or you'll be left on cold stones."

"Yes Ma'am. Be careful on the way."

He wanted to be nice, but the lioness left probably too quickly to hear that. Siegfried, alone but in a surprisingly good mood, shook his head, thinking, that he had never met such interesting woman before.

* * *

Atalanta froze at the entrance of the cave, alarmed by some unexpected sounds, which were coming from the inside.

 _The doggo is talking to someone?_

Although she couldn't hear any details, only Siegfried's calm voice, she remained alert and readied her bow. If the guy really belongs to a royal family, someone might keep looking for him. If the local cats find the wounded wolf by accident, things will get even more ugly… Anyway, entering the hideout unprepared would be a bad move.

The lioness carefully sneaked inside, ready to shoot any intruder.

"I surrender". The wolf raised both hands in the air, not surprised at all (Atalanta knew that dog people have much better sense of smell than cat people, but it was still annoying). He had no weapon within his reach – the sword, Gram, was still hidden among other treasures, probably to show Atalanta that Siegfried means no harm to her - and definitely was alone in the cave.

 _So… He was talking to a strange oval object_ _on his lap. But why?_

"What's that?"

"This? A dragon's egg," he replied simply.

"What?" Atalanta blinked, not sure if this is a strange dream or rather a bad joke. Well, that thing actually looked like a big egg, but… "Wait, does it mean that Fafnir was…?"

"No, he was definitely a male." Siegfried smiled innocently. "This egg was hidden in one of the boxes, Fafnir must have stolen it some time ago. From a white dragon."

"You mean a white wyrm from the North?" Atalanta came closer and touched gently the surface of the egg. It was surprisingly warm and rugged.

"No, a real dragon. White are extremely rare, perhaps it was the reason why Fafnir thought of it as of his treasure."

"Rare or not it must have been kept in that box for ages, should be dead already." Atalanta immediately withdrew her hand when she felt a movement inside the egg. "Wait, did it…?"

"Yes." Siegfried chuckled, waving his fluffy tail. He looked more like a good-natured dog than a scary wolf right now. "Dragons can stay inside their eggs for years, waiting for the best moment to hatch. I guess this little fellow feels safe at last."

"No! It's hatching?!" The lioness seemed a bit scared, with her eyes widened in shock, but she didn't step back, too curious to miss the show. "And you're so calm about it?"

"Miss Atalanta, not every dragon is evil. This one is a prisoner and an orphaned child, we should pity him, not be afraid. There's nothing to worry about."

They both went silent when a crack appeared on the shell. After a short while the slit was ready and a tiny, horned head emerged from the egg.

Then the newborn white dragon opened his golden eyes to see his adoptive parents for the first time.


	2. Will You Travel With Me?

**2: Will You Travel With Me?**

"He's just… cute."

Siegfried nodded. The tiny dragon was running around the cave, sniffing and licking every item within its reach.

"He or she," the wolf said. "It's too soon to tell."

"But we need name him anyway!"

Siegfried smiled to himself – just a moment ago Atalanta was terrified about the idea of the dragon hatching in her hideout, and now she clearly intended to adopt the little creature.

 _If every cat could accept other beings so easily, the war would never break out again,_ he thought, but at loud said only:

"I was thinking about it and… Please don't laugh, but there's a legend among my people… about the greatest of kings."

"You mean Arthur Pendragon?" The lioness quickly moved her ears, visibly excited. "The legendary Lion King who had united both our nations under his banner?"

"I was told that King Arthur was a wolf."

"No, he was definitely a lion!" Atalanta pierced Siegfried with a fiery look, ready to defend her point to the last breath.

"Or maybe he was just a shapeshifting dragon?"

They both stared at the little reptile. The hatchling seemed confused about this sudden attention that was given to him. After a moment of tension, he recognized it as an invitation to play and 'attacked' Atalanta's feet.

"Just like a sweet kitten!" To say that the lioness was delighted, would be an understatement. 'Cat instincts made' her proud of the creature who tried to hunt so soon after birth. "Wait, maybe he's hungry?"

"Probably?" Siegfried smiled. "Who knows how long he's been waiting to get out of his little prison."

"Right. But what he wants to eat?"

"Everything?" The wolf shrugged. "You won't grow big if you're a picky eater, I guess."

Atalanta only nodded and reached for her bag. Siegfried tried not to chuckle, seeing how the lioness shows the baby dragon various types of food.

Little Arthur – both his adoptive parents agreed that's a fitting name for such wonderful creature – indeed devoured every single thing Atalanta had offered. The innocently delighted look on his face slowly turned to a sleepy one. With his belly finally full, the dragon looked around to find a warm place to sleep. Realizing, that Siegfried meets all his requirement, he climbed on the wolf and curled into a ball, covering his nose with the tip of the tail.

"Just like a puppy," Siegfried murmured, scratching the dragon baby near its little horn. Arthur yawned and shamelessly fell asleep on his caretaker's chest.

"Maybe he needs something? A blanket?"

"Relax, let him sleep." The wolf pressed a finger to his lips, showing her to be quiet. "Arthur is a dragon, they're tougher than it seems."

For a moment Atalanta looked like she wanted to protest, but gave up eventually and left the cave, not even bothering to say goodbye.

"Looks like someone is jealous," Siegfried whispered, letting Arthur cling to his warm, big hand, before he, too, fell asleep.

* * *

Like any other baby, Arthur was mostly sleeping, usually on Siegfried's belly, due to the wolf's horizontal position during the convalescence (the huntress insisted that it's rather because her guest 'smells like a reptile' after being bathed in Fafnir's blood). When he woke up, it was usually to eat something and play. His favorite's game was to chase the tip of Atalanta's tail - even if the lioness scolded him sometimes, it was clear that she, too, enjoys this little hunting contest.

Today, as usual, the three of them were working together around the fire. Atalanta sat on the ground, focused on her task – making new arrows or fixing the old ones is a never-ending job of every bowman. Siegfried insisted on helping her, so the lioness let him sharpen and polish the tips. It was a tiring job that requires precision, but the wolf never complained, even when he ended up with wounded fingers before he learnt how to do it properly.

"What?" Atalanta suddenly stopped working and stared at Siegfried. "You look like you want to ask me something. Go on."

The wolf hesitated for a moment. Even Arthur gave him a curious look, so Siegfried had no choice but to answer.

"I was thinking… We live in neighborhood countries, but know almost nothing about each other, only some strange rumors."

"Like what?"

"Well…" The warrior nervously scratched his forehead, thinking which words to use. "For example… they say that you, the cat people, eat raw mouse meat."

At first Atalanta was struck speechless, then laughed so hard that she almost forgot to breathe.

"Well… There is a local dish like that, but it's a beef shaped like a mouse, raw with some expensive seasoning. It's very exclusive." She tilted her head, watching Siegfried's reaction. The wolf not only nodded, accepting this simple explanation, but even smiled faintly at his own stupidity. "And I heard that your people howl to the moon."

Now it was his turn to laugh.

"That's another misunderstanding. It's a traditional way of group singing during important festivals. We sing ballads about our history, not howl them."

"Oh." The lioness smiled, she would never expect that mere canines care for art and tales. "Sounds interesting. Could you sing one for me?"

The wolf swallowed painfully, strangely pale.

"That's not a good idea, I'm afraid I'm not as talented as the others."

"Oh, come on! I don't want a concert, just an example how it sounds. Please, please, please?"

The look she gave him could melt an iceberg, yet Siegfried hesitated for a suspiciously long while before he cleared his throat and started singing. It was something between melodic recitation and a murmur, a truly unique form of art, so climatic that Atalanta could easily visualize a pack of wolves sitting around the fire somewhere in cold, windy tundra.

But the words of this song were… disturbing. The wolf sang about an ancient conflict between two races, about treachery, tragedy and loss.

 _Broken and bloodied_

 _We track through the blizzard_

 _To come back together_

 _The wolves of the North_

 _And we howl for our fallen_

 _And we howl for our slain_

 _To the Lions, we give warning_

 _That we'll howl on their graves_

"I… don't know what to say." Atalanta stared at the flames. "I haven't heard this story before."

"Sorry." Siegfried rubbed his chin, thinking. "It was not the best choice, considering the fact that you are a lioness. But I meant no harm, this is the most classic example I could think about."

The huntress shook her head, deep in thoughts.

"I do not feel offended, just curious. Because the song tells nothing of the reason why all those... bad things... happened."

"True. We do not remember the reason, only the bloodshed. Even our lords probably don't know any details anymore."

"I guess you're right. But they're still acting like the kings of old."

"About that… They say that your king is a greedy tyrant."

"Uh?"Atalanta's ears moved quickly, as if she tried to check if she understands correctly. "You mean king Gilgamesh?" Her stunned expression was truly hilarious. "No! He's the most caring person this land has ever known. A little bit haughty, sometimes, but a papa bear to anyone who's loyal to him."

"I see." Siegfried smiled. The lioness reacted like a devoted subject, ready to defend the honor of her lord, so Gilgamesh couldn't be as bad as they say on dog's lands. Probably. "Sounds like you're close to him."

"N-no. Not really." The huntress blushed. "It's rather typical for great leaders who love their people and are loved in return. But I don't expect you to understand that, for your king is a cruel barbarian."

It was a verbal sneak attack to change the topic or intimidate the adversary – and it worked surprisingly well.

"Wait." The wolf blinked several times. "King Sigurd – a barbarian?" He couldn't stop laughing. "He's the most civilized person that ever lived. I mean it, seriously. He has a strong sense of justice, which some people can misunderstand as cruelty, but calling him a barbarian is a mistake."

"Well, calling king Gilgamesh a 'greedy tyrant' would not end good for you, you know?" The lioness chuckled, then cleared her throat and modified her voice. " _How dare you speak to me like that, mongreeeel!_ " – she said in the king's voice, making them both burst out laughing. Even little Arthur came closer to enjoy the show, with his tail waving rapidly in amusement.

" _Understood_ " – Siegfried joined the fun and replied in the voice of king Sigurd, pretending to adjust his imaginary glasses. His acting was so realistic, that Atalanta almost believed that the wolf wears them normally. " _I guess it can't be helped. Do as you please, but don't come to me if something goes wrong_."

Another burst of laughter. Arthur, even if he didn't actually understood what's happening around him, breathed out a cloud of smoke through his nostrils to show that he approves the new game. His desperate tries to imitate the movements of his adoptive parents were hilarious.

"Now you can't deny that you met your king at least once," Atalanta said eventually, hugging the tiny reptile and wiping away the tears from laugher.

"Wolves are tribal." Siegfried shrugged like it was nothing. "And we are rare enough to know each other personally. I suspect it's the same with lions?"

"Yeah," she confirmed with a sigh, and the smile slowly vanished from her face.

"What's wrong?" – Siegfried asked, trying to decipher the meaning of her silence.

"Nothing, just…" Atalanta took a deep breath before continuing. "When we were sitting and laughing like that, just for a moment, I forgot that you're not a cat."

"I see."

There was nothing better to say, really. They both felt the same and tried hard to not ruin this moment with useless blabbering.

Arthur observed them for a while, his gaze wandered between his 'parents', there and back again. This short examination must have ended with a satisfactory conclusion, because the little reptile only yawned shamelessly and decided to take a nap.

Dragon wisdom or not, he just knew everything's going to be alright.

* * *

Several days passed slowly like that. Siegfried's wounds healed completely and the cold wind from the mountains was a clear sign of the upcoming winter.

"We must leave this place," Atalanta said all of a sudden. Siegfried looked up at her, standing in the entrance. He found the lioness' long hair, dancing in the wind, stunningly beautiful. "Arthur will suffer from the cold."

The wolf chuckled, amused. He was sure that Atalanta would leave him in the cold cavern without hesitation, but Arthur, her beloved adopted 'son' (yes, he heard her saying that, more than once), was a completely different story. Not that Siegfried did not care about the dragon, he was equally attached and concerned, but he would rather say 'we', or 'you', not only 'Arthur'…

"I suppose I should head back North," he stated eventually. And reluctantly, which was a surprise even for himself.

"You probably should," the lioness answered blankly, lost in thoughts.

For a long while they could hear only the cold wind, whistling ominously outside. Announcing the inevitable.

"I should start packing then…"

"Uhmmm."

Silence between them was tense and surprisingly uncomfortable. Siegfried needed a moment to – slowly - stand up and – also slowly – collect his belongings.

"Arthur will be sad," Atalanta said eventually, not able to look Siegfried in the eye. She didn't have to. The tone of her voice was enough for the wolf to understand that not only the dragon will suffer after parting.

"And it's dangerous to leave him under care of only one person," the swordsman added, honestly worried. "Someone may want to kidnap the little one, or even kill him…"

"It's impossible for one person to guard him all the time," the lioness agreed without hesitation.

"What's your plan then?" The wolf raised an eyebrow, more than eager to join forces for a right reason. "I cannot stay here." He reminded himself that he needs to make sure that a certain magical sword returns to his rightful owner, but abandoned this topic for now.

"You can. If the king gives you permission."

"He will?" The wolf frowned, not totally surprised, but still hesitant.

The lioness shrugged, but a green sparkle in her eyes told Siegfried that she knows more than she's ready to admit.

"And how do I get safely to the capital?" It wasn't unwise to ask. Sneaking carefully near the border of the cats' lands was one thing, but wandering alone deep into their territory seemed like challenging death itself.

"I will escort you." When he didn't answer, Atalanta sighed heavily. "Come on, you're a big, scary wolf, don't tell me you're afraid. And you're the Dragon Slayer, remember? That will act on your favor, you should be greeted as an honored guest."

"Should?" Siegfried smiled, finding himself surprisingly susceptible to her little provocations. "And if not? I will end up as your prisoner?"

"You won't." Atalanta was sure about it, probably she hid an ace in her sleeve. Or it was just another dirty cat's trick, who knows? "So, will you travel with me?"

She reached out her hand to the wolf, offering an agreement. For a moment shorter than a heartbeat, Siegfried hesitated. He was at risk in this case, far from home, left at the mercy of the foreign, probably even hostile, king…

Yet, he understood the true, deepest meaning of Atalanta's question. " _Will you trust me?"-_ she asked _. "Will you risk everything and, as an emissary of your people, will you try to make peace with your sworn enemy?"_

If this stubborn, but good-hearted lioness was Siegfried partner in crime, he certainly would try. She has proven her good intentions long ago, when she saved him from certain death near the Fafnir's cave. And, of course, they had Arthur, the white dragon, a promise of peace and prosperity for both races.

Honestly, Siegfried couldn't imagine any better opportunity to achieve long-awaited peace between cat and dog people (if such peace was even possible, of course).

"To the end of the world," he answered, accepting her hand and shaking it solemnly.

Not knowing, what exactly happened, but sure that it was something important, Arthur celebrated their agreement with a loud squeak and a cloud of smoke coming through his nostrils.

* * *

The song used in this chapter is "The Wolves of the North" by Karliene. While I'm not actually into "The Game of Thrones", I found this song touching, inspiring and fitting here so much that I just couldn't resist. Please forgive me.

New characters will enter the scene soon: cats, dogs and foxes. On their way to the palace our heroes will meet famous spearmen, eccentric vixens (who are running an inn together) and their even more eccentric cook… And this is only the beginning of their journey.

As always, Your comments are much appreciated.

Thank You for reading and hope to see You soon!


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